Favour
by Simply Kelp
Summary: Had someone told her that she would one day marry that boy Leporello, she probably would have laughed at them. Young Giovanni has a distinct sense of humour. -Don Giovanni-


Title: A Great Favour  
Author: Simply Kelp  
Opera: _Don Giovanni_  
Pairing: none, really  
Rating: pg13 (Leporello has a dirty mouth)  
Summary: Had someone told her that she would one day marry that boy Leporello, she probably would have laughed at them. Young Giovanni has a distinct sense of humour. [Don Giovanni]  
Disclaimer: Seeing as I'm not dead, I'm probably not Mozart, or da Ponte... but, who knows?  
A/N: I've always wondered about Leporello's wife. Today I began writing something about their relationship (I rather see them like Iago, and Emilia, only Leporello doesn't kill her), but it evolved into this. It was really quite fun to imagine Giovanni, and Leporello as kids. Although I don't think it matters very much, this is based on the 1989 von Karajan version with Samuel Ramey, and Ferruccio Furlanetto as Giovanni, and Leporello respectively. They have the best chemistry of any pair I've seen so far; you can find several videos of them on you tube. You must, if you get the opportunity, watch it!

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As she walked slowly, and cautiously down the east wing, the girl clutched the note she had been given as if she thought it might decide to flutter away. She spent most of her days in the kitchens, and thus had seen little of the mansion outside the one great room. Her mother was one of the Doña's personal maidservants, and her father served as the old Don's coach. She had heard plenty about the rooms-- so many rooms-- outside the kitchen; but hearing, and seeing were very different.

The walls were all painted brightly; golden vines branched over the moulding. Portraits of the mansions past occupants looked sternly down at her from the walls. She pulled her fichu a bit higher, and tried to look straight ahead.

The door she was looking for lead to the Doña's private quarters. The note she carried was not for the Doña herself-- the girl was not sufficiently important, or grave enough to deliver such a note--, but for one of her maidservants. She passed a door that was slightly ajar; a peal of laughter escaped from the room. Her curiosity got the better of her, and she peeked in.

Seated, and scribbling madly at a page of parchment was a mousy looking boy who seemed about her age-- twelve years, exactly. She thought she might recognise him if he were looking her way, but she was glad he did not, or it would reveal her eavesdropping.

She did recognise the older boy. His name was Giovanni, the old Don's ill-behaved son-- both of her parents had mentioned his penchant for making trouble. He was standing over the other boy, pointing at something on the parchment. "O my poor Leporello," he said, sounding almost theatrically despairing as he leaned over the other boy's shoulder to speak directly into his ear, "your handwriting is so ghastly; my tutors will never believe I wrote _that_."

Leporello sighed, and scratched something out. Giovanni smirked, and leaned against the back of the other boy's chair. He gazed languidly about the room. He raised an eyebrow at the door; had he seen her? "Leporello, I think we have a visitor," Giovanni whispered stealing the quill out of the other boy's hand causing Leporello to nearly knock over the ink bottle. "Careful, my dear Leporello," he muttered, brushing the feather against his bottom lip.

The girl stood frozen, knowing she should leave to look for the Doña's maidservant, but unable to convince her feet to move. Giovanni walked to the door, and pushed it opened. She felt her cheeks burn. "Forgive me, sir," she stammered, "I did not mean to intrude."

Giovanni smiled languidly at her. "It is no intrusion at all," he said, drawing her empty hand into his. He allowed his lips to brush against the back of her hand. "Company so beautiful as yourself is always welcome." She smiled slightly. At least he did not seem disposed to punish her for eavesdropping. "Isn't that right, Leporello mio?" Giovanni asked, glancing back at the other boy.

Leporello's eyebrows unconsciously furrowed. He shot a glare at Giovanni, but the other boy didn't seem to notice. When he looked at her, however, he smiled. "Of course, Don Giovannino mio," he muttered. His eyes drifted to the quill that was still in the other boy's hand.

"My dear," Giovanni said, finally releasing her hand. "Would you be so kind as to do me, and my associate here a great favour?" he asked, fixing her with a charming smile. She got the impression that he was accustomed to getting his way at all times.

"What would you have me do?" she asked hesitantly. The note was still clamped in her hand. If she agreed, she would likely be scolded for being tardy in delivering the note, but if she refused, would he report her for eavesdropping on them?

Giovanni laughed. "Well, my dear associate here has yet to have his first kiss. I wondered if you would be willing to do the honour?" She felt her eyes widen slightly. Leporello gasped; this time he did knock over the bottle of ink. It spilled onto the parchment, and seeped into the wood surface of the table. Giovanni laughed again. "As you can see," he told her conspiringly, "Leporello is very shy."

Leporello was trying to sop up the ink with his shirt sleeve; he only succeeded in spreading the ink further. "I'm not shy," he spat at Giovanni. "I just am not a letch, unlike my dearest padrone."

The girl looked to Giovanni to see his reaction. She really would hate to see him hit the other boy, even though he was certainly out-of-line addressing his master so informally. Instead of scowling, or threatening like she had expected, Giovanni smiled. He laughed, walking over to Leporello, and dragging him over to where she was standing. "O, my dear Leporello, your impudence never ceases to amuse me," he murmured, as he let his hand rest affectionately on the other boy's back.

Leporello raised an eyebrow at Giovanni, and shrugged slightly, as if resigning himself to his master's antics. The girl watched as his eyes widened, and he was thrust into her. They hit, noses bumping, and lips clashing, as they fell to the ground as a jumble of limbs, and, in her case, fabric. When the girl opened her eyes, she saw Leporello lying above her, hands braced at either side of her head.

"Fuck," he muttered inelegantly, clambering off of her.

Giovanni chuckled slightly, "I apologise for my associate's crass behaviour," he said, extending a hand to the girl. She took it, and he helped her up, as it was rather hard to stand with corsets, and yards of fabric obstructing her movement. "I have been training him to be a gentleman, but somehow, my efforts seem to have little effect on him." Giovanni gave the other boy a pointed look.

Leporello was still sitting, examining a newly formed hole at the knee of one of his stockings. "My master seems to forget that his hand had a lot to do with the lady falling," he muttered darkly, finally standing. He kept staring down at his shoes, waiting for Giovanni to give the signal to leave.

Giovanni laughed at his servant, and looked to the girl. "If you will excuse us," he said, taking, and kissing her hand again, "we must be off." He gave her another smile, and tugged Leporello by the sleeve, conducting him to the door. The girl thought that she heard Giovanni chuckle from outside the room.

"Worst fucking kiss ever," Leporello muttered quietly.

Giovanni laughed animatedly. "I thought it was charming."

"Charming my arse."

"My dear Leporello," Giovanni said, suddenly sounding very serious. "You do realise that our lady friend can probably hear you insulting her kissing prowess."

Leporello scoffed. "I said nothing about her kissing prowess, only my deranged master deciding to push me into an unsuspecting girl." There was the sound of pushing, and shoes scuffing the floor. "Damn it," Leporello muttered.

The girl waited until she could no longer hear their voices. As she stood there, she noticed that her dress was stained with black ink at the hip. She frowned, and looked to the note that was still clutched in her hand. "O dear," she murmured. Now she would certainly be late delivering the note; not to mention that she would likely be scolded for dirtying her dress as well.

The girl sighed, and left the room. As she continued down the corridor, she hoped that she would not see the two boys again on her way to deliver the note. Had someone told her that she would one day marry that boy Leporello, she probably would have laughed at them.

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Thank you so very much for reading this; I hope that you enjoyed it. I would be much obliged if you reviewed. It would likely inspire me to write more.


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